


Simple Tastes

by kyrene



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-02
Updated: 2010-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrene/pseuds/kyrene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The answer to the question no one was asking; what happens when you get two Jim T. Kirks in the same room without their memories!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Tastes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [backinblack](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=backinblack).



It was weird enough waking up in an unfamiliar bed with no idea of who you were or how you got there, or even where _there_ was. It was even weirder to wake up next to another man in the same state that you were in.

Scrambling backward and falling on the chilly floor on his bare ass didn't seem like such an extreme reaction; especially since at the time he first awakened, he had no idea that the other man -- who was also completely naked under the light coverlet -- was as confused as he was.

They got things sorted out in short order, with a minimum of violence. He didn't know who he was, but he was pretty sure he could kick anyone's ass. It was just a feeling he had. Then again, the other guy in bed with him looked like he felt pretty much the same way. It was just generally for the best that it hadn't come to that.

"So none of this looks familiar?" he asked, glancing around the room. It was small, just a grey cube containing a bed and two very confused men, really. No windows, no other furniture, nothing like so useful as a door or maybe some clothing that they could put on.

"Why would it?" the other man asked. He wasn't sure, because he couldn't see his own face, but he was pretty sure that this stranger was at least a few years older than he was. Though he'd be damned if he could figure out what gave him that idea. "You think I have any more idea than you what's going on?"

He shrugged, not taking offense, since they were both a little on edge and there were more constructive things they could be doing than arguing. "Just asking."

The other guy sighed, his well-toned chest heaving under a light dusting of gold-brown hairs. He was actually quite good looking, with clean-cut features and wavy golden hair that was neatly swept back save for a few errant curls that tumbled over his brow.

"I think we've both established that we have absolutely no idea of what's going on," he responded in a low drawl, which wasn't anything other than the truth.

He seemed pretty calm, all things considered, but then, what benefit would there be to losing it? There was no clear way out of this room, and they were going to have to work together to figure their way out of here.

***

"No obvious exits," the younger man -- he wasn't sure how, but somehow he _knew_ the other man was younger even when he had no idea of his own age -- said, pacing the confines of their cell. He wasn't sure why they were there, but it was obviously a prison, if only because they couldn't leave it at will.

He wondered what the reason was that they had been locked away like this, and whether it was the same reason for both of them. He couldn't be sure what he himself looked like, but the young man standing before him certainly seemed clean-cut and personable. A little overconfident, perhaps, but that wasn't usually considered to be a crime.

Pleasing features set in an angular face, the high cheekbones and sharp chin offset by the lush curves of his soft pink lips, brilliant blue eyes that took everything in and gave very little away....

For some reason he couldn't fathom, he thought... no, he _knew_ that he liked this stranger. And not simply in the whole "hey, we're both in the same screwy boat" sort of way. It was something that went deeper, something that tugged at him in a way he wanted to recognize but couldn't, because there was that whole amnesia thing. Maybe they'd known each other before losing their memories. His attention wandered as he pondered the ways in which they might have... _known_ each other.

"Wonder what we did to get locked up like this," the younger man mused, his mind evidently running along the same lines, but a few beats behind. His naked body was lean and firmly muscled, in top shape. Just like his own was, and he lifted the sheets off his lap, checking really quickly. Ah, yes, they were _both_ well-hung. That was good to know.

"I don't _feel_ like a criminal," the younger man continued, running a hand along the smooth surface of the wall. It was a nimble, strong, capable looking hand. And he certainly seemed to have no reservations about being nude before a total stranger. Of course, since they were both missing their memories, pretty much everyone would be a stranger to them at this point.

For some reason, though, they were the only two in this room.

***

He turned, piqued at the silence and ready to say something else, but then the words died on his lips as he noticed and recognized the light in the other man's eyes. He raised a brow, a small smirk curving his lips. Now _that_ was something that he knew... and for some reason he thought that he was familiar with it, though he couldn't have said why.

The other guy was sitting on the bed still. More like lounging, really, and he was definitely easy on the eyes. Golden against the white of the coverlet, all bare flesh and artfully tousled hair, white teeth flashing in a smug grin, eyes bright as they wandered over the younger man's body in a decidedly lascivious manner.

"I'd just feel better if I knew my name," he groused, letting his feet carry him closer to the bed. He couldn't let himself forget that the two of them were essentially trapped here, and yet his companion was proving to be an unexpected distraction.

"Well, there's a tattoo on your ass that says 'Property of Starfleet'," the guy on the bed said, a laugh catching at the corners of his lips and crinkling the skin around his eyes.

"No there's not!" he protested, twisting to check. "Oh, shit, there is!"

***

"Starfleet," he pondered, rising off the bed and standing beside it. He wasn't intimidated in the slightest by the younger man, but he just felt better when they were both on their feet. They were of a height, he noted. "Does that ring any bells?"

"It rings my ass!" his companion snapped nonsensically, evidently still focused on the tattoo. Then those amazing blue eyes narrowed and he looked suddenly thoughtful. "I don't know.... Does the name Jim mean anything to you?"

Giving it a moment's consideration, he shook his head. "Not really.... Maybe? What about Kirk?"

The younger guy opened that sinful mouth -- incidentally giving him a hell of a lot of naughty images since those lips seemed to have been _crafted_ for blowjobs -- then froze and blinked. Leaving his mouth open, which should have looked moronic but instead looked obscene... in a _very_ good way.

"Maybe," he replied cautiously. "But nothing is coming back to me."

"Me either," he allowed, taking a step closer to the younger man. And, damn, but he was tired of thinking of him as 'the younger man'. It was time to change that. "We've come up with a name apiece, that's something. Which one do you want?"

The younger man -- Fuck! -- shrugged and smirked wickedly. "I'm easy."

***

"Really?" No way was he mistaking the flare of interest in the other guy's eyes as his brows lifted.

He didn't quite backpedal, but he didn't want the guy to think he was slutty or anything. "I guess I'll choose Jim, then," he said, since he didn't feel like a 'Kirk'. Or did he...?

"You don't really look like a Jim," said Kirk, his grin a little mocking, though to his credit he didn't pursue the opening he'd just been given a moment before. "But I'm pleased to meet you... Jim."

Jim took the hand offered and they shook on it. Kirk's hand was warm and strong, fingers holding his a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

They had names, even if they might not be the right names. Now they needed to figure out what they were doing here and how they were going to get out.

***

Jim's eyes were wandering, his attention leaving Kirk and shifting to the stark walls again. And he didn't like that. As much as he agreed that they needed to get out of this featureless cell, he didn't like to lose the focus that had been on him.

After all, they were standing here, two handsome, virile young men, naked as the day they'd been born, with a perfectly good bed behind them. Sure, they should be forming an escape plan... but how were they supposed to escape when there was no way out?

"So, evidently you're Starfleet's bitch," he remarked, and that did the trick; Jim's brilliant blue eyes snapped back to Kirk, narrowing in irritation as Kirk grinned unrepentantly at him.

"You don't know that," he retorted, and if Jim pouted at Kirk with those practically pornographic lips, Kirk wasn't going to be held responsible for his actions.

"Are you calling your ass a liar?"

And then he _did_ pout, but somehow Kirk managed to restrain himself. He wasn't sure how. But he didn't think that this Jim would appreciate being tossed onto the bed and ravished.

Then again....

"Look. This isn't getting us any closer to getting out of here," Jim said briskly, giving him a dirty look that filled him with all kinds of dirty thoughts, and folding his arms defensively.

"I suppose not," Kirk allowed, glancing at the walls surrounding them. But he was more interested in the room's other inhabitant. And he thought that Jim would feel the same way, given some incentive.

***

"I just wish I knew what I looked like," Jim said, knowing that it was something of a non sequitur. All right, it was a major non sequitur, but the thought had been nagging at him for a while now. He knew what Kirk looked like -- and he looked very good -- but his own features were a complete mystery to him, and this room contained nothing that could be used as a mirror.

It wasn't narcissistic to want to know what you looked like; it was only natural.

"Well, you could always try to catch your reflection in my eyes," Kirk suggested, taking a step forward.

Jim let out a quick bark of laughter, the amusement startled out of him. "Wow," he said, shaking his head, both appalled and impressed in equal parts. "That's got to be one of the cheesiest lines in the history of... ever."

Kirk just smirked at him, and he _was_ standing close enough that Jim could have seen his reflection in his eyes as directed. If the lighting had been a little different. And if Kirk's lids hadn't been so heavy and sultry. And if they hadn't both somehow seemed to be moving toward one another... closer than was socially acceptable for two strangers, then closer than was normal for two males, and then... well, _then_ they were evidently kissing.

That was mildly unexpected, despite the obvious sexual tension between them. Not that he had any complaints.

***

The kid's mouth was lush as it had looked and he was definitely talented. And he wasn't the only one. They might not remember who they were, but this they could do. Because no way was Kirk letting Jim show him up. Not when he was older and -- presumably -- more experienced.

"You think Starfleet would mind if I borrowed this?" he asked when they broke for air, sliding his palm over the tattoo and gripping a handful of what was a very fine ass.

"Seriously?" Jim groaned and his forehead banged against Kirk's shoulder as he slumped. "Do these lines really work for you, or are they meant to make me laugh until I just can't offer any resistance?" he asked, raising his head and meeting Kirk's gaze.

Kirk smiled at him, wide and white and wicked. "Well, whatever works," he replied equably, and then in a move as smooth as it was unexpected, he tipped Jim so that he tumbled on his back on the bed.

***

"Watch it!" Jim yelped, and maybe he flailed a little but he'd never have admitted to it later.

He hadn't really expected his erstwhile cellmate to be so direct. But then they _were_ both already naked and each of them knew that the other was interested. Maybe direct wasn't so bad. It certainly allowed them to skip over the awkward initial maneuvering. And there was no need for the whole "getting to know you" stage when they didn't even know themselves.

Kirk joined him on the bed, and that must mean something as well, right, that the only thing in the room was a bed? A nice wide bed that could accommodate two full grown men....

The coverlet was cool beneath his back, and Kirk was hot and heavy, resting above him, propped on his elbows. Hard muscles under smooth skin, roaming hands and a hungry mouth and they didn't know their own faces, but they could learn one another, and they did so eagerly.

Jim groaned as Kirk ground their hips together, hard cocks captured and pressed between them, friction sending pleasurable shivers over the surface of his skin.

It was as though Kirk knew exactly what he liked, what turned him on like nothing else. It was... amazing. And he did his best to give as good as he got. Because it was a matter of pride. He might not know who he was, but he was _sure_ that he was an excellent lover.

***

There may have been a bit of a tousle when it came time to decide who topped, but a green kid, however good looking, could never beat out a... well, Kirk still had no idea who he was or what he did, but he was certain that it was important and that he did it well.

They didn't have anything so convenient as lube, unfortunately, so there wasn't going to be any actual penetration. There was still nothing in the room but themselves, the bed, and the light coverlet that was getting crushed beneath their entwined bodies. Kirk was too well endowed to use saliva -- well, the same could be said for Jim, but there was never any question of him topping -- so they didn't even try.

Fortunately, there were other things they could do.

Jim's mouth was even hotter and more talented when he used it on Kirk's throbbing cock. And he'd thought the kid was good at kissing.

"Ah, fuck, yeah," he groaned out and it wasn't very articulate or suave of him, but it got his feelings across. That and the fingers that he sank into Jim's thick gold-brown hair.

***

It probably wasn't Jim's best fuck ever. Even without any previous memories, he was pretty sure of that. But that didn't mean it wasn't good. It was damned good, if a little rushed and awkward.

He got a good mouthful of Kirk's dick, before the older man held him down, pressed their groins together again and did his best to grind Jim into the mattress. He wasn't ashamed when all he could do was hold on and ride along to orgasm. He enjoyed it too much and he was too honest to deny that it was more than enough to get him off. If he'd tried, his body would have made a liar of him, as he came hard enough to have him seeing stars.

For some reason, stars seemed familiar to him. Well, so did coming.

***

The slick heat of Jim's orgasm spilling between their bellies was just what Kirk needed to drive him over the edge, and he came with a bitten off swear, hand digging bruises into Jim's shoulder.

Flopping to one side, he rested there, catching his breath. They were both flushed and sweaty and they'd had a fine time getting that way. Kirk didn't think that there was anything wrong with taking a moment to appreciate their sated, satisfied state.

"Well, that was... unexpected," Jim remarked once he could speak, but he was grinning, not frowning, as he said it. He used a corner of the coverlet to clean himself off the best he could manage. He'd taken the brunt of the shooting, after all.

"Was it really?" Kirk asked, quirking a brow. Jim looked thoroughly debauched and absolutely delicious. It was quite a lovely sight.

"Okay, maybe not," Jim allowed. He stretched and then laced his hands behind his head, his expression thoughtful. "But it doesn't really get us any closer to figuring out how to get out of this room, does it?"

Kirk was going to answer, really he was, but just then they were rudely interrupted. In a manner of speaking.

***

Suddenly there were two new people standing in the room, beside the bed. Both were fully clothed, which seemed supremely unfair. One was a dark-haired man with a face that you instinctively wanted to punch in the mouth. The other was a stately man with craggy features, who was strangely attractive despite his baldness. The first man looked very self-satisfied. The second man appeared horrified to the very deepest depths of his soul.

It was the first man who spoke, gesturing toward the bed and its two sweaty, disheveled occupants.

"And that, my dear Captain Picard, is the answer to the question asked the universe over; what happens when you put two James T. Kirks in the same room without their memories."

The bald man opened his mouth but nothing came out. He tried again. Then again, and finally he was able to say, in a stiff British accent that only quavered a little, "There is _no one_ that is asking that question, Q!"

Those obnoxious lips curled in a supremely obnoxious smirk. "Oh, you'd be surprised."

"No, I wouldn't!" the bald guy, Picard, burst out. There were veins throbbing in his temples and he was flushed all the way down his neck.

"Oh, now you're being closed-minded," Q scoffed. "Admit it, you were surprised just now."

Picard fumed. "Surprised does not even begin to cover my reaction, and you bloody well know it!"

"Um, excuse me," Jim -- who was apparently named James -- ventured at the same time Kirk -- who was actually Kirk, and also James -- said more commandingly, "If I could interrupt--"

"Q, give them back their memories," Picard ordered, sounding as though he could actually give orders to a possibly omnipotent being with a letter for a name. His voice was a little strained, but he seemed to be fighting to retain his self control.

"Oh, very well."

There was no fanfare, no waving of his fingers, just a sudden burst inside their heads and suddenly they knew who they were. They were James Tiberius Kirk. They were _both_ James Tiberius Kirk.

They looked at each other.

"Huh." It was uttered almost as one.

"Happy now?" Q asked Captain Picard petulantly.

"Happiness is not even in the same space system as my current emotion," Picard answered with remarkable aplomb.

"Hey, how about some clothes here?" requested the younger Kirk.

This time Q did wave his hand, but it was more a gesture of irritation than anything else. What really mattered, though, was that now both the incarnations of Captain James T. Kirk were fully clothed.

They examined each other. They were both in gold uniforms, both clearly Starfleet officers, but there were subtle differences. Which brought up a disturbing question.

"Which of us is the real Kirk?" they asked in unison. Which maybe wasn't so surprising, now that they knew what they knew.

"You both are," Q answered, as though this should be obvious, and the urge to punch him in the face was growing stronger if anything. "You see, at one point there was a little shift in the continuity of this universe's timeline, resulting in the branching off of an alternate universe. One of you is from that scenario, while the other comes from the more well-known history."

Captain Picard, who had subsided into a somewhat stunned silence, jumped back into the conversation at this point. "Please tell me that you did not split the timeline into two alternate universes simply so that you could find out what happens when you get dual James Tiberius Kirks in the same room," he demanded passionately.

"Could there be a better reason?" Q asked flippantly.

"Q!"

"Now, would I do something like that?" Q smirked.

Picard simply scowled.

"Oh, rest that pointy head of yours," Q said irritably. "Even _I_ am not prone to that level of hubris. It was entirely due to the effects of some silly red matter and the actions of the original Spock that the split happened. I simply... took advantage of the situation."

"That much is true," the younger version of Captain Kirk put in with a little shrug. "At least the part about Spock and red matter."

"So what you're saying is that we're both the real Jim Kirk?" asked the older version.

"Do you doubt it?" Q asked, brows rising.

They looked at each other again, then both grinned widely. "Nice to meet you," older Jim said, and again he was the first to extend his hand.

"Likewise," the younger Jim replied, both ignoring the fact that ten minutes ago they had been locked in a decidedly carnal embrace. It was... sort of like masturbating, right? Not that Jim Kirk ever needed to resort to that. But when it was an encounter with an alternate version of _himself_....

"Q, you really need to put them back where you got them," Picard said firmly, hands on his hips and his expression stern. "And you need to return me to the Enterprise."

"The Enterprise?" both Kirks asked, their attention whipping to Picard and noting his strange uniform and Captain's insignia.

Q pulled a sour face. "Ugh. You're right. This has been fun, but one James T. Kirk is enough for any given universe."

"Wait!" both Kirks commanded, but before they had finished speaking the word, they were both gone as though they had never been. The only thing left in the room that bespoke their presence was the bed, its coverlet rumpled and stained.

"That was entirely uncalled for," Picard informed Q with quiet, strained dignity.

"And yet it was incredibly amusing," Q smirked. "For me," he obligingly amended as he caught the hard look Picard was giving him.

"Return me to my ship, Q," Picard said wearily. "And leave me out of it next time you decide to conduct strange experiments."

"Aren't you curious as to whether there's another version of you ou--"

"No!" Picard snapped, cutting Q off before he could finish the question.

"Relax," Q snickered. "I'm sure if there were, the two of you would simply sit around sipping tea and discussing something boring like archeology."

"Q."

"Spoilsport," Q pouted. "Very well. Back to your precious ship."

Both were gone in a twinkling, and after another moment the room itself ceased to exist. It had served its purpose, after all.

And the question that the universe had never actually asked had been answered.

=[end]=


End file.
